


I'll Be Your Light

by mightaswellll



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American AU, Daddy Kink, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mpreg Harry, Nerd Harry, Smut, Teacher Louis, Tiniest attempt at, because I'm lazy, i guess, idk - Freeform, this is pretty much all fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7659418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightaswellll/pseuds/mightaswellll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles always had a crush on his sister's best friend Louis Tomlinson.  Moving in with them should be a good way to get over it, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Your Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ballsdeepinjesus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballsdeepinjesus/gifts).



> I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better I'm pretty sure this fic tried to kill me.

Harry isn’t sure when it started. By the time he noticed the fluttering in his tummy every time his sister’s best friend Louis smiled at him it seemed like something that was always there. Maybe it was. The thing is at fourteen he assumed it would go away. At sixteen he was so sure that when Louis left for college with Gemma it would fade. And it did. To some degree. Enough for him to not feel weird about those few hook-ups he managed to get at parties. But here he. Twenty-three, and nervous about moving in with Gemma and Louis in Seattle. The thing is Harry can’t help but remember the way Louis’ eyes would crinkle when he would smile at Harry and compliment his choice in sweater vest for the day. Or the way he’d always help him up when Harry would trip. Or the way Louis would always invite Harry to join him and Gemma on their movie nights.

 

On top of that Louis has only gotten more attractive. When Louis was eighteen he was this golden pixie with dainty features and sparkling blue eyes. The few times Harry had seen him since, Louis has become more manly and rugged. He dropped his brightly colored jeans and suspenders for an edgier skate punk look with black skinnies and oversized t-shirts. He also added stubble. Delicious stubble that Harry has fantasized feeling against his skin a few too many times. As for Harry, he wishes he could say that he's changed. His hair still requires too much product to control, he still doesn't know how to dress in something other than khakis or slacks and sweater vests and sweaters. He's honestly a bit afraid to try. These clothes have suited him well enough the past ten-ish years, why change them now. At least he's figured out contacts. He's always been a bit too clumsy for his own good, which resulted in a few too many pairs of glasses breaking. He's pretty sure his mom teared up when she saw him with his contacts for the first time.

 

The point is, Louis is beautiful and way out of his league but Harry's crush has remained strong. And now he's moving in with them. His sister is sure to find out about his crush and tease him mercilessly, which means Louis will find out about his crush and give him looks of sympathy while slowly cutting Harry out of his life. He's a little fucked. It's too late to back out now though. He starts his job as a computer programer the day after tomorrow, and living in Seattle isn't cheap, and Gemma and Louis really need a roommate and are counting on him. Plus, he just arrived. His mom has pulled up to the building, all of his stuff is in the back of the car. He's set. He's not going to let a stupid crush stop him. He's braver than that. Probably. He says a quick prayer to whoever is listening that living with Louis will ruin whatever stupid feelings Harry has for him, and gets out of the car.

  


It isn’t until Monday morning, the morning of his new job, that Harry actually sees Louis for the first time since moving in. He supposes that’s the side effect of hiding in his room when he’s not somewhat lost in Seattle, looking for the last of his stuff that he needs. He knew in his head that he’d probably run into Louis in the mornings. Louis has to leave for the school he teaches at by 6:30am, and while Harry didn’t actually have to be at work until 9, he was too anxious to sleep so 6 o’clock finds him after he’s ran, showered, gotten completely dressed for the day, cooking up a large breakfast just to pass some time. It also finds him face to face with a soft, sleepy Louis, in a pair of well worn sleep pants, and only his well worn sleep pants as far as Harry can tell, and oh god, he’s staring. Flushing a bright red, Harry whips his eyes away and stares intensely at the bacon in the frying pan.

 

“The kettle’s still hot,” he manages out a mumble, still refusing to look at Louis in the eye. He might not be able to look him in the eye ever again. That could work out in his favor if Louis kept insisting on being shirtless. Or maybe not. Maybe if Harry was extra careful they’d never have to cross paths again and he can finally get over his stupid crush without the image of a shirtless, sleepy Louis rubbing his eyes, without the thought that he’d be okay with seeing that every day for the rest of their lives. Those kinds of thoughts help no one, especially not the the Harry that is so deep in thought that he missed whatever Louis just said.

 

“What?” Harry forces the word out of his mouth, and turns his head to look at Louis. Directly to in his face. He will not admire his biceps or daydream about kissing that tiny bit of tummy. Definitely will keep his thoughts away from anything other than having a normal conversation with the man he used to fantasize about marrying. Used to. As in not currently. Because Harry is a twenty-three year-old adult male who has had two long term boyfriends and knows that it takes more than just finding someone attractive to have a relationship. He sees Louis’ mouth move before he registers that he’s speaking quickly tunes in.

 

“....nervous, Harold? Don’t be. You’re amazing and you’re going to blow them all away. Plus you look amazing in that vest. Everyone will love you, no worries.” Louis sounds sincere, but his eyes are sparkling a little. Harry can’t help but wonder if maybe Louis had caught him staring earlier. Probably. It doesn’t stop Harry from blushing and examining his outfit again. Perfectly pressed black slacks, perfectly polished loafers, a light purple long sleeve button up, with a black sweater vest with a purple and grey argyle pattern on it. He’s 90% sure Louis isn’t messing with him but even if he is, this is Harry’s favorite outfit. He’s not going to let the potential disapproval force him to change. If Harry has learned anything over the years, it’s to ignore the way people feel about his vest collection. He doesn’t care if he looks like someone’s grandad, he knows he looks nice. He looks back up at Louis, bottom lip caught in his teeth.

 

“I’m not changing,” he blurts out. Inwardly he cringes. It’s the first time he’s seen Louis in three years and he’s already made a complete tit of himself. He needs to get himself together. Louis’ going to think he’s grown into a complete spaz. Even if Louis was in his league he wouldn’t want anything to do with him. He needs to stop. He needs to let this crush go. Before it crushes him. Ha. The sound of Louis laughing reaches his ears and he as a moment where he thinks Louis can read his thoughts but no that isn’t possible.

 

“Never change, Haz,” Louis advises, then he sits himself on the counter and sips at his tea. Harry goes back to focusing on the bacon. He doesn’t want to bacon to burn is all. It has nothing to do with the fact that he feels like his face is still too red for 6am. Nothing to do with the proximity of a nearly naked childhood crush. He shakes his head slightly. This isn’t him. This isn’t how he’s like anymore. He can have conversations with people he finds attractive. He can even banter. He can even flirt! There’s no reason he has to be acting like his sixteen year-old self. It must be the lack of sleep. Yes. The lack of sleep. That’s definitely it.

 

“Hey, it’s, uh, 6:15. Shouldn’t you be dressed by now if you want to eat?” Okay. That was good. That was a normal sentence from a concerned roommate. Living together won’t be a disaster after all. He can do this. He can act like a normal human. He was just caught off guard because of the morning and the shirtlessness and the lack of sleep. Nothing to worry about in the future. He watches Louis slide off the counter out of the corner of his eye as he puts the bacon on a plate with the rest of breakfast and starts frying some eggs, the last step in his breakfast process.

 

“Well, Harold, my normal breakfast consists of tea and one of the protein bars I have stored in my desk at work, so usually there’s no need to rush myself. Of course I don’t usually have cute boys in my kitchen making a feast,” Louis delivered the last line with a wink and walked out of the kitchen without even looking back to see the devastation he caused. Harry’s only thought as he’s finishing up breakfast is “he thinks I’m cute.” He spends the time getting everything on plates convincing himself that Louis only said it to tease him. He then gets so distracted trying to figure out what to do with the plate of food intended for Louis that won’t go eaten that he forgets about the whole thing until Louis rushes in the kitchen, looking nice in a pair of black skinny jeans and a simple light blue button up. His hair looks less like bedhead and more like hair specifically styled to look like bedhead. It’s a nice look and Harry kind wants to run his hand through it. Louis quickly fills the kettle and pulls out a thermos.

 

“Looks amazing Haz, really,” Louis says, smiling at Harry, eyes crinkling slightly. He just stands there stupidly, not moving while Louis fills his thermos, wraps his plate with cling wrap, and heads out the door calling “Good luck today, Harold! You’re going to smash it!” So now, instead of spending the next two hours getting himself into an anxious mess, he can antagonize over every second of their interaction. Yay.

 

It isn’t for nearly an hour and a half that he hears Gemma get up. Harry has managed to move himself to the living room where he’s got his laptop open and his email pulled up. He’s written and rewritten a resignation to his new boss about five times at this point. He won’t send it. Despite the fact that he’s unsure that he can ever face Louis ever again, and it’s in a city he doesn’t know yet, and he has to start all over with new people, he’s looking forward to his new job. There was nothing for him in Ferndale, except his mom and the old ladies at the bakery where he worked as a teenager. He thinks the change, as scary as it is, will be good for him. He just wishes that he didn’t have to make the change while being confronted with the reality that his crush on Louis hasn’t really died.

 

“ ‘Dear Ms. Jones, I regret to inform you that I am unable to work for you because of reasons…’” Gemma reads over his shoulder. “Well, Harry, if I read that resignation letter I wouldn’t have any questions at all about why you no longer want to work for me. One small suggestion first, little bro, actually give the job a shot before you quit it.” Harry brings his hand up and pushes his sister’s head away.

 

“One small suggestion, big sis, why don’t you go fuck yourself,” he tells her as he deletes the email draft and closes his laptop. He should probably finish getting ready for work. Not that he had much to do other than gather his things and put them in his bag.

 

“Touchy this morning. You’re lucky that I know that you’re just nervous about this new job or else I’d have to give you hell for being so rude to your perfect and loving sister,” Gemma calls over her shoulder as she walks into the kitchen.

 

“You wouldn’t do that anyway, because I saved you some breakfast. It’s in the fridge,” Harry informs her as he puts his bag over his shoulder and wanders into the hall bathroom to double check that his hair is still gelled perfectly in place and that his clothes aren’t wrinkled, or that any food as found it’s way on him. Everything is still good. Hopefully it stays that way during his commute. He’s a bit anxious about taking the bus. He made sure to go on a few practice runs yesterday to the office, but he’s still convinced that he’s going to get lost. Seattle is quite big. And what if something happens and the bus is late? He doesn’t want to be late on his first day.

 

Harry quickly slaps his cheeks. “You can do this. You are awesome. Programming is what you’re good at. They wouldn’t have hired you if they didn’t want you. You can do this. You can do this.” He tells his reflection. He repeats the sentiment in his head. He can do this. He just doesn’t want his sister to overhear his pep-talk. He glances at his phone. 8:10. It only takes five minutes to get to the bus stop, and the rest of his trip takes another half an hour, but he doesn’t want to risk it. Not on his first day. Maybe not ever. But especially not today.

 

“Bye, Gems!” He calls as he heads out the door. He just hears his sister calling good luck as he pulls the door shut behind him. He can do this.

 

* * *

 

All Harry can think about by the time he reaches his front door at 6:25 is collapsing on the couch. He’s exhausted. So that’s what he does. He drops his bag at the door and carelessly leaves his shoes just to the side of it, mentally promising to put them away later. He shuffles his way into the living room and doesn’t even bother to get on the couch properly, just rolls over the back of it. Straight onto Louis’ lap, crinkling the papers he had on it. Great. Instead doing anything normal, like moving or apologizing or even being embarrassed, Harry just whines. Louis probably already thinks he’s a freak from this morning, might as well keep up that impression. To his surprise, Louis just moves the papers he had in his lap to the coffee table, shifts a bit to make them both more comfortable, and runs his fingers through Harry’s hair the best he can with all the gel.

 

“Long day?” Louis asks softly. Harry groans quietly and nuzzles into Louis’ hand. “You’re a bit like a kitten aren’t you? Come on Haz, tell Uncle Louis about your day.” Harry manages a weak chuckle at that. Yeah. No. Louis will not be associated with being family. Maybe Daddy, but now’s not the time to go down that road.

 

“I hate orientation. Why can’t I just get started working without being forced to interact with strangers?” Harry whines. His eyes start drooping shut and the headache that had been building all day has already started to dissipate. Maybe he can get Louis to scratch and massage his head every day. In a purely platonic fashion, of course. Just one pal scratching another pal’s head. Nothing wrong with that.

 

“What did they make you do?” Louis removes one of his hands from Harry’s hair and picks up the crumpled paper he was reading before Harry intruded. Which. Rude.

 

“Heeyyy,” Harry pouts. They were having a conversation. One without Harry making a fool out of himself. Also, he was liking that hand in his hair where it rightfully belonged. Louis scoffs at him.

 

“Calm down, Kitten, I’m still listening. Just straightening it out, ‘kay?” He watches as Louis works to uncrinkle the paper and lays it down on the armrest.

 

“Before lunch wasn’t too bad. I just had to fill out a bunch of paperwork and then me and Liam, the other new guy, watched some bullshit videos about how amazing the company is and the basic history. Then she went over our job descriptions and gave us a tour of the place. Which was all fine. A little pointless, but I get it. It’s necessary. Whatever. So I then we had lunch, which they provided because it was our first day, which was a relief because I forgot to pack one, and I thought ‘finally we’ll leave this conference room and I’ll get to see my cubicle and maybe actually get started on some work.’ I was wrong. Instead the rest of our team came into the room and we did four hours of name games and trust exercises. The worst one was where we had to say our name and an adjective that starts with the same letter, pretty standard, right? So we have Serious Steven, Jolly Jason, Lucky Liam, Helpful Hannah, Rare Rochelle, Funny Fred, Jazzy Jordan. All sort of normal name and adjective combinations, and then it was my turn, and my brain went completely blank and I panicked. You know what I said?” Harry moans, turning his face to hide it in Louis’ belly. Louis would never think of him as anything other than a mate after this but Harry is already going to die of shame. “I said ‘Hairy Harry’. Hairy. Harry. Loouuu. I have to quit.”

 

Louis, who had spent the whole rant just quietly playing with Harry’s hair, started chuckling softly. Harry knew it was kind of a funny story but he still didn’t appreciate being laughed at. He frowned and buried his head further in Louis’ before he realized what he was doing. Louis tugged a little sharper on one of Harry’s curls and he bit his lip. Friends do not get bothered by other friends pulling on their hair. On the other hand do friends really pull each other’s hair? Louis did call him cute this morning. No matter. They were going to be friends and that was that. Nothing more. Friends probably don’t cuddle into other friend’s tummys. No matter how cute the pudge was and how relaxing their hands were in their hair. Harry slowly sits up.

 

“Don’t worry, Harold, I’m sure it won’t be that big of deal. No need to quit yet. Maybe people will remember your name?” Harry kind of hopes that people will just forget about the whole thing, but from past experience he knows he probably won’t get so lucky. His eyes follows Louis as he stands up. Harry refuses to look at his bum, even though he’s sure that those sweats frame it perfectly. “Go get yourself comfy, I’ll make you a cuppa, kay?” Louis wanders toward the kitchen without confirmation from Harry.

 

Harry sighs to himself, stands up, and makes his way to his room. He doesn’t really have much in the way of loungewear. He has always preferred to sit around naked, or in just his underwear if he wasn’t sure if someone was home, but that doesn’t seem appropriate right now. He manages to find the one pair of sweats he brought, and his oversized lavender sweater. That should be comfy enough, right? He glances in the mirror and debates whether or not to do anything about his hair that is completely ruined by this point. The stiff gel and Louis’ fingers is not a good combination, but at this point it would take too much work to deal with properly, so he just tries to fix it the best he can with his fingers and heads back out.

 

By the time he gets back to the couch, Louis has settled himself back down and is frowning at the paper Harry scrunched, red pen in his mouth. There’s two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table, one that says “[The World’s Okayest Teacher](https://www.lookhuman.com/design/91399-world-s-okayest-teacher)” and one [rainbow penis floral mug](https://www.lookhuman.com/design/79353-floral-penis-rainbow/mug). The latter Harry assumes is for him. Especially because it’s the mug Gemma got him for Christmas the year he came out. He picks up the mug and settles himself on to the opposite end of the couch. He takes a sip of the tea and makes a face. Too much milk for his taste.

 

“Was this one mine?” he questions, leaning over to look into the other mug to see if it looks any different. It doesn’t. The must be made the same. “I don’t take mine with milk normally.” Louis scowls at him.

 

“Look, you come into my house, attack me with your gangly body, bitch about your day, and then insult my tea. You can just fuck right off bro.” Harry can hear his heart pound in his ears. His eyes dart between Louis and the tea. It’s really not that bad. It’s really not bad enough to have Louis hate him over. Oh god they live together. He’s going to have to move, or avoid him always. Just when he thought they were becoming friends too! Louis asked about his day, it’s not like Harry bugged him about it. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Then again, Louis did run his hands through Harry’s hair, but Harry just invaded his space, then again that was an accident. Louis’ cackle interrupts Harry’s panicked thoughts.

 

“Your face! I’m so sorry! You looked so worried. Don’t stress babe, I’m just giving you a hard time. Here,” Louis nudges the remote toward Harry. “Put on whatever. Next time I’ll make it without milk.” Harry takes the remote and glares at Louis.

 

“Bastard,” he mumbles under his breath. Or at least he thought it was but judging at the way Louis is laughing at him again it wasn’t as quiet as he thought it was. For that Harry spreads out on the couch, his feet pressing against Louis’ thigh. He doesn’t expect Louis to pick up his legs and put them over his lap, but he’s not complaining. Harry finds an old episode of Cupcake Wars and gets lost in the world of intense baking.

 

“What’s up bitches, I’m home!” the sound of Gemma’s voice startles him. He can still hear the voice of Candace Nelson praising someone’s display, so he must not have been asleep too long. He feels the comfortable weight of Louis’ arms over his shins and tries not to move. It doesn’t hurt anyone to stay like this a couple more minutes.

 

“Shut the fuck up, he just fell asleep!” Louis calls back, loud enough that if Harry hadn’t already woken up, he would’ve now. He almost wishes he was obviously awake so he can roll his eyes. He’s barely resisting the urge to kick Louis. Maybe he could pass it off as sleepy shifting. He’s about to give it his best shot when he hears Gemma get closer and he freezes. He feels Louis shift slightly and dares open an eye a crack. Gemma is leaning over the back of the couch, hugging Louis around the neck and forcing him to lean forward. Harry quickly closes his eye before Gemma notices he’s awake and gives him hell.

 

“Aww look at my two favorite boys. Cuddled on the couch. You two will be bestest friends in no time. This was the best plan I’ve had in awhile.” Louis groans.

 

“He’s had a long day, and you know me, I’ll never say no to a good cuddle,” a defensive edge creeps into Louis’ voice. What’s wrong with potentially being best friends with Harry? He almost opens his mouth to defend himself but remembers he’s supposed to be asleep. Gemma laughs loudly.

“Okay buddy, calm down. I brought home some Thai, it’s in the kitchen for whenever you’re done with the cuddle sesh. Anyway, he’s awake so I don’t know who you’re trying to fool and why.” He hears Gemma walking away. He’ll get her back for outing him.

 

“I say we burn her clothes,” Harry mutters, voice gravelly with sleep. Louis tickles the bottoms of his feet and Harry squirms away so quickly that he falls off the couch with a thud. He’s never been the most graceful. Louis snickers at him, and Harry glares at him for the second time today. Maybe his crush really will be ended from them living together. At least he’ll know that he definitely doesn’t have a chance with the way that Louis keeps laughing at him. Harry groans in pain as dramatically as possible. It doesn’t stop Louis’ laughter like he had hoped.

 

“Hey! Get up you oaf,” Louis says, poking at Harry’s back with his foot. Harry just keeps groaning. Maybe Louis will believe it and feel bad for him. “If you don’t get up Gemma will eat all the pad thai.” That’s good enough reason for Harry.

 

He tells Gemma about his first day over yellow curry and swimming rama. She won’t stop calling him “Hairy Harry” but she doesn’t fuss when he continues watching the Cupcake Wars marathon so he counts it as a win. Later Louis whispers that burning her clothes is a bit too obvious but jamming her drawers shouldn’t be too difficult. So maybe he’ll be able to show his face around the apartment afterall.

 

* * *

 

 

“Harry! Looking good as usual! What’s for breakfast this morning, babe?” Louis rushes into the kitchen one morning about three weeks later. He immediately gets to work on the tea, filling the kettle and pulling down their usual mugs from the cabinet.

 

“Egg sandwich, as usual. I think I’ll leave off the side of cocaine today, I don’t think you need it,” Harry teases, not sure what to do with this energetic Louis. “Seriously though, are you okay? Maybe I should’ve had you to join me on my run this morning.”

 

“Harold. There is nothing you could do to convince me to go running at 4:30 in the morning. I still don’t believe that you actually do it. So then I’d be getting up at 4:30 for nothing like a dummy.” Louis is still moving faster than Harry has ever seen him this soon after waking up so he’s still at a loss. “It’s audition day, young Harold! The day that drama teacher dreams go and die!”

 

Louis had been talking about the spring auditions for the school musical for the past week. They were doing High School Musical this year and Louis was already dreading it. It wasn’t his first choice in musicals to begin with, but the books were donated so he didn’t have much of a choice. Unfortunately, the books were donated by Michelle’s dad. Michelle was usually a hard working student, but she couldn’t sing, act, or dance, and Louis was now in the awkward situation of feeling like he needs to cast her, and wanting to do what’s best for the play.

 

“I’m telling you Louis, cast her as Ms. Darbis. Anything she does will be considered as the over the top drama teacher. I know she’s auditioning for Sharpay but even she must recognize that there are other, more talented people, right?” Harry suggests, trading the egg sandwich for his tea. He’s started getting used to milky tea. It sort of reminds him of being a kid, when he would be forced to participate in Gemma’s tea parties and he added milk because he didn’t know any better. He will never tell Louis this, but he’s even started making his tea at work with milk. It makes him think of Louis throughout his day, and that’s just a little more pathetic than he likes to admit.

 

“You know what young Harold, you just might be onto something. Goodbye for now my love! I have to be early this morning to meet with the choir director and I’m already late!” Harry watches as Hurricane Louis rushes out the door, not even bothering with his normal thermos of tea. He makes a mental note to pick up the stuff for fajitas to make for dinner tonight because when he made them last week Louis would not shut up about them. Even Gemma told him to “stuff a sock in it before I do it for you”. Harry probably should’ve said something too but he was too focused on not blushing too much. Something he still does too much for around his platonic bro pal as it is.

 

Harry shuffles into work a few hours later, too focused on whether or not he should start running after breakfast or not to notice anything. So of course he walks directly into Liam and spills the tea that he always gets on his way to work all over himself.

 

“Harry, man, I’m so sorry! Ah shit, it’s everywhere. I’m so sorry. I should’ve been watching. Here let me run get some paper towels.” Liam rushes off to the nearest bathroom before Harry can even fully process what’s going on. When Liam gets back Harry still hasn’t done anything other than stand there helplessly.

 

“I guess you should say you’re ‘Unlucky Liam’ now,” Harry jokes, and then feels his face flush. That was definitely supposed to be a thought for inside the head. Maybe he should start running after 6:30. He could use the sleep. To Harry’s relief Liam just grins and claps him on the shoulder. A sad Liam would look like a sad puppy and Harry just couldn’t have that. He takes the paper towels that Liam hands him and starts mopping up the tea mess.

 

“Hey, listen, I’m glad I ran into you this morning. I’ve been meaning to ask you if you wanted to meet up at a pub on Saturday? It’ll just be me, my best friend, and a couple of his work friends. No big deal.” Harry looks up from where he’s been concentrating on cleaning up the tea. Liam looks slightly uncomfortable, and if it weren’t for the conversation they had yesterday at lunch about how Harry’s new Seattle and how hard it is to meet new people, Harry would think it was a pity invite. An invitation to the socially awkward guy in perfectly pressed trousers and a sweater vest because obviously he has no friends but let’s hope he says no. And, he likes Liam. They eat lunch together most days, and while Liam now looks like a young Justin Timberlake, there’s something about his earnestness that leads Harry to believe that they’ve had some similar experiences growing up.

 

“Erm. Sure? It sounds fun.” Harry manages to respond. His heart's already pounding at the thought of going out and meeting new people but he trusts Liam not to be friends with jerks. It also sounded casual enough that if Harry were to get overwhelmed, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he made an excuse to leave. When Harry decided to move to Seattle he promised himself that he would push his comfort zones a little more, and this felt like a good push. The way that Liam’s face lights up makes it worth it too.

 

“Awesome! Give me your number so I can text you the name of the pub, yeah?” Liam fishes out his phone from his pocket and Harry dutifully programs in his number and texts himself so that he has Liam’s number, just in case. He hands the phone back and they make their way to their desks.

 

Even though Harry had made a stop at the shops specifically for fajita ingredients because Louis was going to have a long stressful day of auditions, he was surprised to find that Louis wasn’t home when got there. He was so used to Louis being on the couch grading (or rather, holding some papers while staring at whatever show he was currently binging), that Harry almost thought he walked into the wrong apartment. He turns on some music to quietly play while he gets to work making dinner, only briefly considering waiting for Louis to get home before deciding that he is too hungry to wait.

 

He’s in the middle of belting out the chorus of Man I Feel Like A Woman when a voice saying “That’s lovely Harold, it truly is, but you’ve ruined my precious nap time and now you must pay the ultimate price” interrupts him, and he’s a little embarrassed at how high pitched his resulting scream was. Then he realizes that the voice was Louis’ and was attached to Louis’ body that had apparently been home the whole time, and Harry would very much love for the floor to open up and swallow him thank you very much. Louis is bent over laughing so hard he hasn’t noticed Harry’s desire to die on the spot.

 

“You know what man,” Louis wheezes out. “That’s good enough payment for me. That was worth being woken up for. Thank you.” He’s managed to straighten himself out and is wiping the tears from his eyes. Harry grabs the onion, a cutting board, and a knife and sets them in front of Louis.

 

“Since you’re already crying, you can help me out by chopping the onion,” Harry says, trying to sound bored. It had actually been a few days since he last embarrassed himself in front of Louis so he supposes it was about time. That doesn’t mean he has to give away that he’s embarrassed. Now if only his skin tone would cooperate with that resolve. It still liked to turn him into a human tomato every time anything happened.

 

“Nope. I just spent three hours after school crying on the inside as I listened to 100 kids butcher Bop To The Top. I don’t know what I was thinking when I made that the audition song. Oh wait. I remember. It was Niall’s idea. He thought it would be a laugh. Fucking Irish cunts. Anyway, Harold, I’ve done enough crying and I refuse to chop your onion,” Louis rants, waving the knife around in his hand, forcing Harry to take a worried step back.

 

“Alright,” Harry concedes, mostly to get the knife away from Louis’ hand. “You do not have to do any chopping. Actually, keeping you away from all sharp objects seems like a good plan. Why don’t you just sit there looking pretty and tell me about how awful the auditions were.” Louis sets the knife down and hops up on the counter.

 

“I resent that Harold. I am more than just some piece of meat to ogle at. I can pull my weight in the kitchen. I just don’t want to because I spent three torturous hours listening to kids crush any hope I had at producing something award winning. One kid forgot the words to Bop To The Top and just started singing scat. Normally I’d appreciate the effort but he had the sheet music in his hands, with the lyrics. And it was off key. On top of that I had five kids who were completely unprepared for the monologue portion of the audition, even though I had spare audition packets printed out and ready. All they had to do was read from them. Instead they made up a monologue, which ended up being whatever thoughts were coming into their heads at the time. Except for one kid, he started doing a dialogue scene from Bob’s Burgers. That one wasn’t so bad actually, I think he’s going to be my Corbin Bleu, or whatever that character’s name actually is. I should probably know this by now but my brain has been melted by these children…”

 

Harry finishes dinner while he listens to Louis recount some of the funnier moments, including reenactment of some of the dancing that the kids did during the “freestyle” choreography part. Gemma walked in on that one, prompting Louis to start all over again, and Harry to nearly burn the veggies because he was giggling too much. They eat dinner, Louis praises Harry’s cooking just slightly more than he’s comfortable once again. It isn’t until a while later when they’re all on the couch watching Parks and Rec on Netflix, (Louis with his head in Harry’s lap and his feet in Gemma’s because he’s “earned it today”) Harry comes to a startling realization. He’s completely one hundred percent in love with Louis Tomlinson, and it isn’t going away.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry’s Friday is not off to a good start. He had a hard time falling asleep because he couldn’t decide what to do about his Louis situation, and even though he had decided on pretending everything was normal because a) Louis is his sister’s best friend, b) Louis was way out of his league, which was fine because c) Louis probably only saw him as a little brother, the decision did little to relax him. Then, despite the little sleep beforehand and setting his alarm for 6am, Harry’s body naturally woke up at 4:30 and refused to go back to sleep. He only managed to run half his usual distance before deciding it wasn’t worth it anymore and went home to take a long shower. Which, thankfully, went off without a hitch. His hair took an extra long time to cooperate and he couldn’t find the exact vest he wanted to wear, but he settled on one that wasn’t one of his favorites.

 

It wasn’t until he was looking for a clean pair of slacks that he realized what the problem was. He didn’t pick up his dry cleaning yesterday. His mind was so focused on fajitas that he just completely forgot. Normally in a situation like this he’d just wear the pants he wore yesterday, but he managed to drop one of his fajitas in his lap leaving an awkward stain. Which is why he finds himself hovering outside of Louis’ door just before 6am, completely dressed on top with a pair of sweats on the bottom, wondering how much Louis is going to hurt him if he wakes him. Louis would probably be getting up soon anyway. He takes a deep breath and just goes for it. Harry pushes the door open slowly, only to be greeted with the sight of Louis wrapped up in his blanket, staring at his phone.

 

“Um. Lou?” Harry asks softly, still a little nervous about disturbing him, even though he’s clearly awake.

 

“Harold. To what do I owe this pleasure at 5:58am? You should know that I refuse to get out of this bed until six unless it’s an emergency. Is the apartment on fire...? Is Gemma on fire...? Are you on fire...? ….Am I on fire...?” Louis doesn’t even bother to look away from his phone and Harry doesn’t mind. He did disrupt his usual morning routine after all.

 

“I, um, don’t really have any clean pants? And I thought maybe you might have a pair I could borrow?” Harry’s eyes dart around the room, glancing at the various soccer and band posters and pictures of Louis’ family on the walls. It looked more like the room of a teenager than of a twenty-something, but Louis really only seemed to be in his room to sleep, and on the weekends Harry’s not even sure he does that.

 

“You’re in luck. Normally I wouldn’t have anything that would fit your giraffe limbs, but I accidentally bought some pants that were too long and I haven’t got around to returning them. They’re in that bag over by the closet. If you like them you can keep them. If I’m being honest with myself, they weren’t going to get returned.” Louis still hasn’t looked up from his phone but Harry doesn’t care. He quickly grabs the bag, mumbles out a thank you, and leaves the room.

 

It’s after he pulls the pants out and starts getting them on that Harry encounters the next problem of the morning. The pants that he’s super grateful to even have are black skinny jeans. Harry hasn’t even worn normal jeans since he was ten and his grandpa told him that proper young lads wore slacks, and since he idolized his grandpa he began dressing like him. After he passed away from lung cancer, Harry refused to wear anything that didn’t look like his grandpa would’ve worn. As he got older he realized that making his clothing choices based off what an eighty year-old would wear was probably not the best choice, but by then he was so comfortable in his clothes the thought of wearing anything else made him sweat. Now here he was, thirteen-ish years later, not sure how he was going to manage to stuff himself into something that seemed to be more spandex than pant. Not sure what else to do, Harry just puts them on, one foot at a time, just like any other pant. Which was apparently all it took. He walked over to his full length mirror to get a closer look. Short of sweats, they were the most comfortable thing he’s ever put on his legs. They’re like his running leggings, only socially acceptable to wear in public. His legs look endless and he actually looks like he has an arse. They actually look pretty good with his vests. He decides to ask Louis where he got them so he can buy some more to wear outside the office, and to make Louis a feast for breakfast as a thank you.

 

Harry could’ve sworn they had all the things for bacon pancakes, but all he could find was some bread, two eggs, and bacon. How could they possibly be out of flour? They really needed to go grocery shopping. He goes about making an egg sandwich, as usual, and puts the bacon in the oven to cook as well. It’s not the thank you breakfast he had planned but it’ll do. Louis shuffles in a few minutes later and lets out a low whistle.

 

“Look at you, hot legs! Who would’ve guess that those lovely thighs were hiding you those slacks all this time,” Louis exclaims, staring at Harry’s legs for a moment more, before getting to his usual task of morning tea maker.  

 

“Thank you for the pants, Lou, I really appreciate them. Actually, I really like them? They’re super comfortable, not at all like I was expecting them to be. Where did you get them? I might want to buy some more,” Harry did not like the way his voice came out all timid. This was the same Louis he was before he complemented Harry’s legs and the same Louis he was before Harry realized he was in love with him. Louis grinned at him, seemingly unaware of how flustered he was making Harry.

 

“Tell you what, hot stuff, I’m meeting up with some friends tomorrow in the evening, but before that I’m free. How about we go shopping together? Since that pair didn’t work out I still need new pants,” Louis offers, stealing a piece of bacon off the tray Harry just pulled out. Harry has frozen, just staring at Louis. Somehow, despite the fact that they were becoming real friends who hung out at home, he didn’t expect Louis to want to be real friends who did stuff outside of home. Louis starts fidgeting with his mug once Harry’s frozen stare becomes uncomfortably long.

 

“Sorry, zoned out there for a mo, just had to mentally check my calendar,” Harry cringes slightly at the dumb excuse. Louis knows he’s not busy. “I also have plans in the evening with my friend from work, but I’m definitely free free before then.” Louis grins his crinkly eyed grin at Harry.

 

“Alright, it’s settled, we’ll get you some new clothes before your date with your coworker!” Harry nods until Louis’ words hit him.

 

“It’s not a date! It’s with a couple of his friends! Because I’m new to Seattle! And he’s straight! I can tell, and not just because he’s only ever talked about women. He just is!” Harry is sure it’s not a date. There’s just no way it could be because he likes his friendship with Liam. Definitely not because he’s in love with Louis and wants to make sure that that Louis knows that he’s free for dates.

 

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Louis teases, eyes sparking and lips curled into a smirk even as he munches on another piece of bacon.

 

“Lewis,” Harry groans, hiding his face in his hands. He can’t deal with this today. He doesn’t want to start over thinking every interaction between Liam and himself. It’s a nice solid friendship.

 

“Alright, alright, it’s not a date. Don’t worry about it. We’ll still go shopping,” Louis gives in with a pat on Harry’s head, and then promptly gets started on preparing his thermos of tea to bring with him to work, as if no damage was done to Harry’s perception of his and Liam’s relationship.

 

By the time Harry left for work, all he could think about were the jeans again. The whole trip to work Harry contemplated calling in. He felt so good when he left, but by the time he made it to the bus stop he regretted everything. He knows that the change is really minor in the scheme of things, and that most people are living their own lives, not paying any attention to him, but he can’t help but feel anxious about it. He reaches the building and walks in. There’s no one in the lobby even looking his way but he can’t help but feel like there are a thousand eyes on him. He can’t wait to get to his safe little cubicle and pretend that it’s a normal day for him. He makes it up to the floor without incident. He may have felt every eye on him and felt like every whisper was about him, but no one approached him directly. He even made it to his department. He was just about to sit down and never get up ever again when he hears one of his coworkers, Nadine, say “Good morning Styles, lookin’ hot.” and feels her smack his ass. If he hadn’t heard her talk about how she’s “so fucking gay” so many times he might think she was hitting on him. Even then he feels his face turn a shade of red he didn’t think possible and he sits down and gets to work before anyone else can bother him.

* * *

 

By the time Harry makes it home it takes all of his energy to even fall on the couch. Which he does. On top of Louis. Again. Great.

 

“Harry, man, we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Louis’ amused voice says from above him. Harry tries to move his hand so he’s flipping Louis off, but it’s not cooperating.

 

“Fuck off this is all your fucking fault. Fucking skinny jeans why.” Harry mutters into the fabric of Louis’ pants, and he’s just now realizing he’s laying face first on the lap of his best friend slash roommate slash person he’s one sidedly in love with. Maybe he if he started giving Louis a blow job right now he’d start thinking of Harry as a potential life mate. Maybe that’s a bad idea. He turns so he can face the TV and so he can stop thinking about Louis’ dick.

 

“Louis. I don’t know about getting more jeans.” Harry starts as Louis starts playing with his hair. “It felt like everyone and their mother was staring at me today. And I’m pretty sure more people talked to me? But not about the pants but just in general? But maybe I was just hyper aware of it because I was worried about people’s reactions? So maybe they were just talking to me a normal amount? In anycase it was all stressful. I don’t know if should get more I didn’t really like it.” Louis gives Harry’s head one final scratch and then removes it, which no, not okay. But they are just completely platonic dude bro pals, so Harry should really be happy with what he’s got. He moves from lying in Louis’ lap to sitting crisscross on the other end of the couch.

 

“Well, we don’t have to buy any, but maybe we should just go and look? Who knows, you might want some different pants for not work situations. Maybe if you go on a real date,” Louis adds the last bit with a wink. “But no pressure to get anything new if you don’t want to. You wear your granddad's clothes. You look incredible.” Harry buries his face in his hands and falls to the side, stretching his legs onto Louis’ lap.

 

“I hate that song. As punishment you get to deal with my feet in your lap.” Louis rests his hands lightly on Harry’s shins and Harry had to try to avoid wiggling. Sometimes he’s too ticklish.

 

“Of course you don’t like that song you fucking hipster,” Louis then tickless Harry’s feet, causing him to squirm and try to kick at Louis’ legs. Somehow this leads to Gemma walking in ten minutes later to Louis straddling Harry so that his arms are pinned, tickling his sides, screaming “I'm gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket, I - I - I'm hunting, looking for a come-up, this is fucking awesome.”

 

“Excuse me boys,” Gemma interrupts. “Now that I’m home I’m going to need you to move yourselves to a bedroom if you want to finish whatever sort of weird foreplay is happening here. I don’t want to be a part of it. Thank you.” She walks off, leaving the two embarrassed boys to sort themselves out. Harry clears his throat to break the following silence.

 

“I should, uhhh, um, I should start dinner…” Harry wriggles a little as he talks, to remind Louis that he’s a little stuck.

 

“Right. Sure. Of course. Yeah,” Louis stammers. “I need to do finalize the rehearsal schedule anyway.” Louis gets off of Harry and shuffles into his bedroom.

 

Harry gets to work making up some grilled cheese sandwiches and heating up some tomato soup. He spends the whole time trying to will his dick down, and trying not to think about how Louis was hard too. By the time Gemma and Louis come out to eat he’s managed to calm himself. He avoids looking at Louis to see if he has too, but most of the weird tension that was in the air is gone. After listening to Gemma rant about the crazy client that she had to deal with today, it felt just like a normal day. Harry could have almost pretend that the whole thing had never happened if it weren’t for Louis humming Thrift Shop as he went to bed.

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t know Lou, maybe my body wasn’t meant for skinny jeans,” Harry whines from the dressing room. He and Louis have only been shopping for half an hour but he’s ready to give up. Sure it’s the first store and he’s only tried on two pairs of pants but he’s done. He didn’t sleep well last night, his face is starting to breakout, and he can’t get used to the idea that he should be wearing pants that show the exact shape of his leg. He hears Louis groan outside of the room. Okay, so maybe he’s said some version of that with every pair they’ve even looked at.

 

“Hazhead. My dude. My man. I promise that they look good on you. And yes I can say that without seeing them on you because you looked amazing yesterday. And also because I just know. It’s a gift. So come the fuck out and show me what you got or else I’ll force my way in there and we don’t need to be kicked out of the store today thank you very much.” Harry brushes his hands down his shirt, resists the urge to mess with his perfectly gelled hair, and steps out of the room.

“See? It looks all wrong,” Harry gestures to his whole body, frowning. He watches Louis looking at him critically. He knew it. He looks dumb. He just needs to stick to slacks and khakis and forget about this stupid skinny jean business.

 

“Okay. I give up,” Louis says after what seems like an eternity. “You look fantastic. You look like a skinny jean model. I don’t see what the problem is so you’re going to have show me.” Harry’s frown deepens. How could Louis not see? They fit so different than the ones he wore yesterday.

 

“They’re weirdly baggy in the knees? And they seem kind of loose around my ankle too actually? And they seem so much more stiff than the ones I wore yesterday? I don’t know, they just feel wrong.” Harry whines. He doesn’t know what he was thinking. He can just keep the ones he wore yesterday and wear them when he’s feeling daring. No need for anymore. He gets the courage to look at Louis’ face to see that he’s grinning.

 

“I’m so sorry Hazzelbee, I know what the problem is. You do look fantastic in those jeans, they fit you exactly how they’re supposed to. The problem is that those are skinny jeans. You actually wore jeggings yesterday. Which means we have to go somewhere else. So go, change, and then we’ll get you the pants of your dreams.” Harry goes back into the changing room, still feeling skeptical but Louis looks so excited that he’s going to give it a shot. He should stop thinking about the stupid fucking jeans and just enjoy his day out with Louis. It’s almost like a date. Except it isn’t because they’re just friendly dude bros.

 

They leave the store and Harry is surprised to find themselves at a teriyaki place after.

 

“Uh. I don’t think they sell clothes here.” Harry can’t help but to state, feeling a bit stupid.

 

“Ten points for Hufflepuff my little Hazzard. They don’t sell clothes, but they do sell yakisoba. And bubble tea. It’s 2:30 and I’m starving.” Louis claps his hands together and rubs them as he approaches the counter. Harry follows him, thinking that he might as well get some teriyaki chicken. He’s going to need the extra energy.

 

Half an hour later they walk into the clothing store that’s supposed to provide the jeans of Harry’s dreams. Or rather, jeggings of Harry’s dreams, but that doesn’t sound as good. Harry’s mood has lifted somewhat with the food, and Louis seems to actually have calmed down from him. He’s still giving Harry weird nicknames, but he’s just going with it. If it were a date he’d maybe try a few of his own. But that would be flirting, and this is definitely not a date. Even if Louis did pay for his lunch. But that was just because Louis was excited for Harry to try something new. Or something. He wasn’t really listening, too focused on telling his heart to calm down because this was not a date.

 

“Look, Hazimba. Everything the light touches is your kingdom. Go. Wander. Now that I know what you’re looking for I’ll make sure we get those, but I also want you to try on whatever catches your eye.” Louis spread his arms out to indicate the entire store.

 

“What about that shadowy place over there?” Harry points toward the cash register.

 

“Ahhh. That’s a money graveyard. You must never go there. Unless you’re ready to buy new clothes I suppose. Anyway Hazhead, go forth and conquer or some shit like that.” Louis pats Harry’s back and walks away.

 

“You already used that one,” He calls after him. Louis flips him off but keeps going.

 

Harry wanders around a bit aimlessly. The only pants that really catch his eye are some striped ones that he knows he wouldn’t wear even if he bought them. Maybe in some alternate universe. Or next year when he’s a little more comfortable with a different style in general. Whichever is more realistic. He gets drawn into the shirts, even though that’s not what he’s shopping for today. There’s this stupid Hawaiian print ones that he loves. Especially this flamingo one. Louis finds him as he is still trying to imagine a world where he could get away with wearing something so outlandish. Maybe if he were famous enough that people would think he was being fashion forward.

 

“I like that shirt, Hazbab. You should get it. What size are you?” Louis asks, as he begins flipping through the shirts.

 

“I’m a medium but don’t worry about it. I couldn’t wear that. It’s just not me. Anyway, where are the life changing pants?” Harry looks at Louis’ empty arms and then at Louis’ face, just catching his face change from a displeased face to a smirk.

 

“They’re not life changing, they’re dream making. Get it right Hazman. Don’t worry about them, they’re in the room. C’mon.” Louis puts his hand on the small of Harry’s back, and Harry tries very hard not to imagine Louis guiding him through life this way. He fails. In the dressing room there are three pairs of pants. One black pair, one dark wash, and one of the striped pants with white and black stripes. He’s still skeptical.

 

In the end Harry buys all three. Even the striped ones he can’t picture himself actually wearing in public but Louis’ reaction convinced him. He tries not to think about the $350 he just put on his credit card. He probably hasn’t spent that much on his clothes total since he started paying for his own clothes. His wallet can handle it. On the way out he notices that Louis has a bag of his own. He almost asked about it but he remembered that Louis ended up giving him his newest pants, so he probably just bought some of his own. It’s really none of Harry’s business.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s 6:40, Harry needs to leave in ten minutes if he wants to meet Liam by 6:55. Sure Liam actually said 7, but, as always, Harry likes to be early, even if the place is so close he would have to try to be late. The problem is, he doesn’t know what to wear.

 

“Gemma!!!” he calls out. If there ever was a time for a big sister, now is it. Except she isn’t here. He just remembered that she left fifteen minutes ago to go out with some of her girl friends. Apparently she spends too much time surrounded by testosterone or something. Whatever. He should’ve had this meltdown an hour ago.

 

“I know I’m not as pretty as your sister, but maybe I could help?” Louis offers, popping his head into Harry’s room.

 

“Yeah sure come in,” Harry keeps his focus on his closet as he hears Louis settle himself on the bed.

 

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Louis’ eyes are traveling the walls, taking in all the artsy photographs that Harry framed after taking that one photography class in college. He only framed the ones he thought were particularly good. And the ones of his family. He has a string of lights above his bed to kind of look like a headboard. Maybe he is a hipster. It does look a bit like his instagram threw-up on his walls. Before he can ponder that further, Louis continues. “Anyway, what can I help you with? Wait, you’re wearing your glasses?”

 

Harry frowns at his closet again. “Yeah, I got something in my eye earlier and decided to take a break from contacts for the rest of the day. But that’s not the problem. I’m going to wear the new dark wash jeggings that we got, I’ve already decided that. But what shirt should I wear? The only t-shirt type shirts I have are for running so I’m not going to wear those…”

 

“I thought this wasn’t a date,” Louis teases.

 

“It’s not,” Harry huffs, crossing his arms. “It’s just I wanted to look nice, and not like this weird person who spends all days playing with computers and doesn’t know how to dress like a real human who was only invited out because someone felt bad for them. Is it so wrong to want to look nice when meeting new people?”

 

Louis’ face softens. “My lovely Hazzmatazz, you would look lovely in whatever you chose to wear from your closet. I promise. Any shirt and vest combination could be worn with those pants. And you are a weirdo who spends all day playing with computers, but that doesn’t mean that they’ll think it was a pity invite. They definitely wouldn’t think about that after talking to you for longer than a second. Besides, you this is with a coworker. I’m sure they’re already used to nerds like you. But if you’re that concerned, what’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” Harry pulls out the hem of his favorite lavender sweater to examine it. He looks between it and Louis a few times.

 

“But, I just wear this around the house?” Harry bites his lip and looks over at Louis. He thinks he hears Louis quietly say “fuck” but that doesn’t make sense so he ignores it. It seems like he’s ignoring a lot of things that Louis does around him lately.

 

“Hazold. I promise you that baggy sweaters and tight pants is definitely a style. Especially if you keep your glasses on. You look so cozy. Which is perfect because it started raining again.” Harry looks between his sweater and Louis a few more times before giving up. He has to leave in two minutes anyway.

 

“At least in this case if they think I’m a freak who can’t dress themselves properly, I can just blame you,” Harry concedes. He squats down to get the shoes he wants out of the back of his closet, and if he is sure to stick his ass out as much as possible just in case Louis’ looking no one is there to witness it. Expect Louis. Hopefully. He gets his boots out and sits on the edge of his bed to put them on.

 

“Woah woah woah. Hazberry. You’ve been holding out on me. All day you’ve acted like you have nothing but grandpa clothes but then you pull out these gorgeous boots. I feel lied to.” Louis cries, moving so that he’s laying on his belly to get a better view of the dark brown chelsea boots. Harry rolls his eyes.

 

“I saw these a couple months ago while Christmas shopping and bought them impulsively. Then I realized I had nothing to wear them with but I guess they were final sale. Must’ve been why they were so cheap.” Harry finishes getting his shoes on and stands up. “Well. I guess it’s time for me to go. Don’t wait up” He gives a little half wave and walks out of the room, feeling a bit better knowing that at least Louis thinks he looks good.

 

“Make good choices!! And if he says he’s too big for condoms, he’s lying!!” he hears Louis shout as he leaves. Harry just slams the door shut in response and rolls his eyes to himself. It’s not a date. Probably.

 

Half an hour later, it’s just him and Liam still at the pub. Brewery? Liam called it a pub but the name has brewery in it. Maybe there isn’t a difference. They’ve been talking about work this whole time, waiting for Liam’s “friends” that are “running late, like always”. Harry’s starting to suspect that they’re not coming. Maybe it is a date. Liam still seems straight and he seems really annoyed everytime he looks at his phone.

 

“I promise my friends aren’t imaginary,” Liam blurts out. “They’re just the fucking worst.” Harry blinks. They were just discussing a particular piece of code that’s been giving Harry problems the past couple days, so it’s a bit startling.

 

“....I didn’t think they were? Has that been an issue before…?” Harry asks, before taking a sip of his cider. He never knows what kind of beer to get. He would’ve ordered what Liam did, but Liam ordered an IPA and Harry knew he didn’t want that. Liam blushes and shrugs slightly.

 

“I didn’t really have friends growing up so when my mom came out to visit me, she wanted to meet them and they were half an hour late, she started to question it, and your face started to look like hers soo…” Liam fiddled with his coaster the whole time. Harry is just starting to think of how to best express that he understood where he was coming from when Liam’s face lights up.

 

“Niall you fucker, you’re fired! I even told you that we were meeting half an hour earlier than we actually were just so you two would maybe be on time for once in your goddamn life.” Liam slides out of the booth. Harry decides to follow him out.

 

“I’m sorry, bro!” A blond guy with a snapback approaches them and gives Liam a bro hug. “This one wanted to whine forever about-”

 

“Harryold!” Louis shouts, appearing from behind the blond who must be Niall. “What are you doing here?”

 

Harry, who is still adjusted from the day of going with Louis’ flow smiles at Louis. He’s still surprised but he’s also a bit relieved. He was actually a bit worried that if Liam’s friends did show up they wouldn’t talk to him but now at least Louis will.

 

“That’s a new one, but I’m not sure it counts because you didn’t use Haz? Also, Liam? My coworker? That I’ve talked about before? Didn’t I say it was going to be him and his friends?” Liam and Niall are staring at Harry and Louis a bit more than what seems polite. Harry feels a little like he’s in the zoo.

 

“Hazmiester, you know I can’t be trusted to remember the exact details of things you tell me more than three days ago, but I’m pretty sure if you said the name ‘Liam’ today I would’ve remembered. But it’s still surprising. It’s a small world, I guess.” Louis scoots himself into the booth on Harry’s side. Harry sits back down as well and starts to hum “It’s A Small World”. Louis starts humming “Thrift Shop”.

 

“So!” Niall exclaims before Harry and Louis can really get very far. “Since these asshats I call my friends failed you, I guess I’m going to introduce myself. I’m Niall Horan, you must be Harry Styles. I’ve actually heard a lot about you, and since I’m the best person in those two’s life, I’m sure you’ve heard all about me.”

 

Harry realizes that this is the P.E. teacher, Horan, who’s in half of Louis’ work stories. Usually in the stories that make it sound like either of them are lucky that they still have their jobs. Harry reaches his hand out to shake Niall’s as Niall reaches his hand out to fist bump. It’s about as awkward as Harry expected it to be, but Niall just laughs and opens his hand so they can shake. Harry decides in that moment that he likes Niall.

 

“See Haz, I told you that you’d be with good people. I just didn’t realize that one of those good people was going to be me,” Louis grabs Harry’s drink and steals a sip. “Jesus fucking christ Harold, cider? Really? You’re at a brewery and you get a fucking glass of Angry Orchard? No. I’ll pick you out a beer when we order.” Louis shoves the cider away.

 

“Look man,” Harry starts. “I didn’t ask you to come here and judge all of my life choices. If you keep this up  it’s back to protein bars in the morning for you.” Louis rolls his eyes as exaggerated as he can.

 

“I can fry a fucking egg. I don’t need you.”

 

“Can you? Because I would like to see that. Feel free to fry one any morning you feel like it.”

 

“Boys.” This time it’s Liam who interrupts. He and Louis seem to have a silent conversation that ends with Louis shaking his head and Liam smirking.

 

“I came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” Louis says finally. Niall groans.

 

“No. We’ve talked about this. You can’t use old memes because you think it’s funny. Harry, does he do this at home?” Niall looks so upset, but Louis is smirking, taking another sip of the cider that he condemned.

 

“Everything happens so much,” Harry says with a smirk of his own. Niall drops his head on to the table in frustration. Louis looks over at Harry with a grin.

 

“Hashtag winning!” Louis looks so smug as everyone, even Harry, groans at that one. It leads to a discussion about whether or not tiger blood could be transfused into humans without killing them and if it could, would there be any sort of special benefits to having tiger blood in you. It turns out to be one of the most fun nights Harry’s had in awhile, and he even liked the beer Louis picked out for him.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry’s alarm goes off at six, and he is relieved. He was worried that he’d be waking up at 4:30am everyday. He knows that was a little ridiculous, especially since he woke up at 8 all weekend, but the fear was still there. It’s not raining for once, so he opts to just wear his running leggings and a tank top. He quickly puts his hair up in the usual bun that he wears while running. He walks into the kitchen and is tempted to make Louis fry his own egg this morning but decides against it. He likes making breakfast in the morning. It makes him feel domestic.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” Harry didn’t expect to find Louis in the kitchen, wielding his mug like a weapon.

 

“Louis. I would love to contribute to whatever kind of bit you’re trying to start but it’s just too fucking early man.” Now that he’s said that, Harry isn’t entirely sure Louis was starting a bit. He sounded pretty serious, and his face looks legitimately confused.

 

“....Harry? Harry Edward Styles…?” Louis tries to confirm. Harry nods, still not sure what Louis is up to. “But… Your hair is in a bun? And you have tattoos. And biceps. Am I still dreaming?”

 

“If you’re still dreaming than I am too. What did you think I did with my hair when I ran?” As usual, Harry decides to just roll with it and gets started on breakfast.

 

“Honestly Haz, I couldn’t exactly picture you picture you running. I mean, I believed you when you said that you did, especially after seeing your legs, but I couldn’t actually picture it. But your hair is whatever. I’ll deal with that later. Tell me about those tattoos and why I didn’t know they were there.” Louis demands, grabbing Harry’s left arm to examine it closer.

 

“I dunno man. It’s winter. I wear long sleeves. Maybe you weren’t paying attention? But look,” He points to the cross on his hand with the spatula. “I got that one yesterday, so that one wasn’t really your fault in missing.”

 

“You went out and got a tattoo yesterday and you didn’t tell me?!” Harry is starting to get grumpy by all this. He isn’t usually very awake until after his run and he doesn’t appreciate all these questions. Especially when they make him realize how little Louis actually looks at him.

 

“Look. Louis. It wasn’t a secret. Gemma knew. It was spontaneous. You weren’t even home when I got it. It’s not like I was purposely hiding anything. You just weren’t looking. I’m not just a computer nerd who dresses like their grandpa. I guess I thought you knew that. I’m going to run now because I do not like to start off the mornings this unhappy. Here’s your fucking breakfast.”

 

He shoves the frying pan on a unused burner and storms out. He has to run an extra mile before he’s feeling any better, which means he didn’t have time to shower and do his hair, so he leaves his hair up. On a different day Harry might’ve fretted over the change, but he’s still so upset about Louis that he could hardly think about anything else. The code that’s been uncooperating seemed even more uncooperative than before so he stayed at his desk all day anyway. And if he cried a little it was out of frustration, it was over the code and definitely not over the one person he thought saw more of him.

 

When Harry gets home he goes straight to his room. He doesn’t even bother to see if Louis is home. He’s calmed down since the morning but he’s still pretty unhappy. To be fair to Louis, most of that is his headache. To be unfair to Louis, he’s part of the reason he even has a headache. He takes out his contacts and changes his clothes. He’s just managed to get himself perfectly burritoed in his blanket when there’s a soft knock on the door.

 

“Harry…?” Louis offers quietly. It’s the first time Louis’ called him Harry in weeks. Except for from this morning. He doesn’t like it.

 

“Come in.” his voice responds before his brain. This is happening. Louis walks in a crouches down in front of Harry’s face. His hair is a mess, and not in the usual planned way. Like he’s tried to pull it all out a few times. Maybe Louis isn’t very happy either.

 

“Harry… I’m so sorry about this morning. I feel awful. I was dumb this morning. Of course that’s you. Of course you have tattoos. There’s no reason for you to not. I can’t believe I was that surprised. It was dumb. I am dumb. I could give you excuses, but none of them are worth listening. I reacted poorly to something that shouldn’t have been so shocking. I’m so sorry about that. And I’m sorry I let you walking away thinking that I saw you as just who you dress as. Because I don’t. I really don’t. I got you something. I was going to save it for your birthday next week but now seems like the right time to give it to you.” Harry’s eyes watch as Louis pulls a familiar bag from behind his back. Louis looks at him for a moment and seems to realizes Harry isn’t going to ruin his perfect burrito, even for a gift. He reaches inside the bag and pulls out that flamingo shirt. Harry’s eyes start to water. He’s not about to let himself cry over a fucking shirt but he can’t believe Louis got it for him.

 

“I see you Harry, I’m sorry you felt like I wasn’t looking. Because I am. I see the computer programmer who loves cooking, and loves his family, and swears way more than people would expect. I see the boy who is still doing his best to honor his grandpa the best he can everyday. I see the guy who doesn’t let all that get in the way of his love of instagram. Some people believe that scientists aren’t artistic but you’re proof that they are wrong. And I see who you want to be. I see the part of you that wants to dress in striped skinny jeans and flamingo shirts. The you that wants to be around more people without being so anxious about what they think. I’m looking, I’m always looking. I see all of you and I lo- I think all of you is pretty great. I’m sorry I made you doubt that Harry.” Louis finishes and stands up. He lays the shirt on top of the night stand. It takes that amount of time for Harry’s throat to loosen.

 

“Lewis,” he gets out. Louis makes eye contact, eyebrows raised, eyes bright. “You’ve called me Harry three times today. I’m pretty sure that’s more times than you’ve called me Harry the whole time I’ve lived here. Please stop calling me Harry. Also. Thank you. Also, I’m sorry too. I overreacted.” Louis shakes his head.

 

“Don’t belittle your feelings. You’re not wrong to feel what you feel.” Harry smiles. His grandpa’s words of “pick someone supportive” pops into his head and he pushes that thought away.

 

“Alright. Then I’m not sorry for that. But I am sorry…. That you might have to prove you can fry an egg tonight. I need to be napping. Right now. So no dinner from me,” Harry shuts his eyes to prove his point.

 

“That’s what take out is for babe,” he hears the smirk in Louis’ voice followed by the sound of the door softly shutting. Harry smiles to himself. Even if it’s just a one sided love that will never go away, at least he’s picked a good one.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry wakes up a few hours later feeling like his bladder is two seconds from exploding. His clock reads 11:30 so he tries to be quiet, not wanting wake anyone up. He’s just passing Gemma’s room when he hears Louis’ voice and pauses.

 

“....he was so hot Gems. So fucking hot. I legitimately thought that maybe I hadn’t woken up at all. And then I went and fucked everything up. Like I always do. He’s perfect, he’s way too good for me. He’s too good for this world. He’s never going to want me.”

 

“First of all, you didn’t fuck everything up. Trust me, I know these things. Second of all I told you…”

 

Harry started moving again. He tried telling himself that it was because he had to pee so bad, but he knew the truth. His heart can’t handle listening to them talk about the perfect man Louis is in love with. If his sleep schedule wasn’t screwed by his nap then it definitely would be from this. It was harder than usual to ignore that small voice in his head that suggests that the person Louis was talking about was him, even though that seemed impossible.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a Thursday night about three weeks later, and for what seems like the first time, Harry has a definite hour by himself in the apartment. Gemma is meeting up with some people for drinks after work so she wouldn’t have been home anyway, and it’s Louis’ week for the PTA meeting, so he’ll be gone until 7:30. Gemma seems to be out a lot of nights, now that Harry thinks about it. If he were a better brother he’d ask her if she was seeing anyone, but as it is he has an hour alone and doesn’t want to think about his sister during. His sister’s best friend on the other hand…

 

So it turns out finding out that the person you’re in love with is probably in love with someone else doesn’t stop you from finding them sexy as fuck. And Harry has an hour to think about exactly what he wants to with that person. He’s going to take his time doing exactly that. He looks at his bed, blankets pulled to the side, a towel down to keep things dry, his bottle of lube on his nightstand. He has a dildo in the drawer but he hasn’t decided if he wants to use it. He’s just going to see where the night takes him. He has no reason to be quick and quiet, and he has no plans to. He almost feels bad for his neighbors. Almost.

 

He strips down slowly, letting hands lightly travel down his skin. He can almost make himself believe that they’re Louis’ hands. He closes his eyes as his hands brust his nipples. He lets out a soft moan as he gives them a small squeeze. He moves his hands lower on his body, letting them drift over his outer and inner thighs, moving them back up to his stomach. His skin has started feeling tingly with anticipation. Unable to wait any longer he lays down on his bed.

 

He finally lets himself touch his cock. It’s only half hard at this point but he starts to slowly stroke himself with three fingers. He lets out a moan, letting himself enjoy the feeling. He pictures Louis saying “that’s it baby, let out all those beautiful noises” and doesn’t hold back as his other hand plays with his nipples.

 

“That’s perfect Kitten, keep it up, but don’t come yet baby” his Louis tells him. He adds a little more pressure, but doesn’t add anymore fingers, teasing himself to full hardness. Before pressure that’s started to pool overwhelms him, he completely removes his hand to admire his cock a little. “Gorgeous,” he hears his Louis say. “You’re just perfect baby, you’ve earned yourself a treat.”

 

Harry reaches over to his nightstand, picks up the lube, and slicks up two fingers. He reaches behind himself to tease at his hole. He lets out a low moan just at the thought of what comes next. He circles his rim one more time before pushing his middle finger in with earnest. To distract from the stretch he moves the fingers from his other hand back to his cock to tease. There’s a moment when his finger brushes his prostate and pleasure sparks behind his eyes, and he can’t help but cry out “Louis!”

 

“Don’t worry baby, I’m right here,” his Louis tells him. Harry adds a little more lube and starts working in the second finger. He slowly starts to stretch himself, fingers scissoring a little. He’s extra careful to tease the area around the prostate, without actually touching it. It’s been awhile since he’s let himself do this, so it’s not long before he’s moaning, and rocking his hips, trying to get his fingers deeper and his other fingers to speed up. He doesn’t let himself until he cries “LOUIS PLEASE” and his Louis says “Alright Kitten, go for it.”

 

Of course that’s right when the real Louis flings Harry’s door open. Their eyes lock, and Harry comes instantly. Louis closes the door and runs away.

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours later, after he’s died from embarrassment about a thousand times, Harry realises that as he came looking at Louis he didn’t moan “Louis”, he moaned “Daddy.” He’s definitely going to have to move.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s around midnight when Harry decides that since the earth probably isn’t going to swallow him whole, and he’s not going to actually physically die from embarrassment, and it’s impractical to move now, maybe he should actually talk to Louis. He’s kind of hoping that Louis’ asleep so he has an excuse to put it off. He gives Louis’ door the most gentle of knocks, and whispers his quietest but still able to be hear whisper of “Louis…?” and waits a moment. He’s just about to leave when he hears rustling on the other side of the door. The door opens and Louis’ head pokes out.

 

“Haz?” Louis whispers. He doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping, but he doesn’t look fully awake either.

 

“So… I think we should talk maybe?” Louis blinks up at him and nods, and walks back fully into his room, leaving the door open for Harry to follow. Harry closes the door behind him, but stays in front of it, unsure of where he should go. He’s feeling a little unsure of everything at the moment. Louis settles against the wall at the head of the bed. He looks a little more awake as he rolls his eyes at Harry and pats the spot next to him. Harry sits down, but makes sure there’s space between them. He never had to worry about these boundaries before. On the other hand he’s never been caught masturbating to thoughts of Louis, by Louis. So there’s that. He can’t quite make himself look at Louis either. Why would he want to when he has perfectly interesting hands? He should probably say something. He’s appreciating how patient Louis’ being though. For once in his life. But he should say something. He’s the one who decided they need to talk so he’s the one who should say something.

 

“So. That happened,” Harry cringes. He probably could’ve said something better than that.

 

“Yep,” Louis agrees. He doesn’t sound upset or irritated, but Harry’s still cautious.

 

“I’m sorry,” Harry tries.

 

“You’re only sorry because I caught you,” Louis points out. It’s true, but Harry’s not going to admit to that. “And I don’t want you to be.”

 

Harry was not expecting that. He was expecting…. He doesn’t know but not that. Something more reprimanding maybe. Or something gentler as Louis lets him down so softly. As soft as the blanket he’s absentmindedly rubbing. He looks at Louis, wanting him to explain, but not trusting his mouth to ask for it. Louis smiles a crinkling eye smile at him and holy shit. Harry will never get over how beautiful that smile is.

 

“Harry, I love you,” Louis tells him as though it’s easy to say. Harry’s mind can’t even begin to fully process it.

 

“Right. I know as like a friend or Gemma’s little brother…” the words tumble out of his mouth and Louis just shakes his head the whole time.

 

“Nope. Harry, listen to me, I’m using your real name so you know I’m serious. I love you. I’m in love with you. I love you as much as a person who’s had a giant crush on you since they were seventeen can.” Harry is still staring at Louis, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

 

“You love me?” Louis nods.

 

“You’ve been in love with me for nine years?”

 

“Yep. Since you were all chubby dimpled cheeks in oversized sweater vests. I probably loved you even longer than that. Back when I was beating kids up on the playground for talking shit about you.”

 

“...You loved me all this time and you didn’t say anything?”

 

“Gemma always said that I should but I don’t know. I went off to college and moved down here. I thought I missed my shot, you know? And then you moved in with us and are gorgeous and perfect, I didn’t think you’d want me too. But you do. Or at least I think you do. You haven’t said anythinf-” Harry didn’t let Louis finish, choosing to grab his face and kiss him instead.

 

“I have loved you since I was sixteen. Now kiss me you fool.” They didn’t do much talking after that.

 

One make out session turned into mutual orgasms later, they’re cuddled in bed together. Louis is resting his head on Harry’s shoulder as Harry realizes he has a couple more things to ask.

 

“Hey, was that shopping trip a date?”

 

“Unofficially,” Louis mumbles out, half asleep.

 

“Why were you home early tonight? It was only about 7 when you walked in on me.” It’s been bugging Harry since he realized it. Not that he’s complaining.

 

“Only three people showed up…. Got done early…. Thought you heard me come in and was hurt or something with how you moaned my name. Was hot though once I realized…. So hot baby...” Louis’ words are coming out slurred. Harry reasons that he only has a few more minutes before he’s out.

 

“Are we boyfriends now?” He doesn’t want there to be any confusion.

 

“Only if you go on an official date with me on Saturday.” Harry can’t help the grin that takes over his face.

 

“I would like to do that very much a lot…. One last question.” He’s actually a bit nervous about this one.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“...Can I be little spoon?” his voice is a little more timid than he would’ve liked.

 

“Yes, of course, always.”

 

They wiggle around until they’re in proper spooning position. Harry barely registers the feeling of Louis breathing against his back before he’s dead asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry wakes up in Louis’ bed feeling amazing. Except on further inspection there is no Louis. And it’s 10:30. He bolts out of bed and into the kitchen where, judging by the string of “shit fucking balls jesus fucking christ”, Louis is trying to do something.

 

“Lous, why didn’t we wake up on time for work? And why are you,” he squints to see what Louis’ actually doing. “Making burned scrambled eggs?”

 

“Well,” Louis sets the pan in the sink as he starts talking. “I was trying to make not-burned fried eggs, to prove to my boyfriend that I can, in fact, fry an egg. And then I was going to bring that perfectly fried egg to him in bed and shove it in his face.” Harry walks up to Louis, wraps his arms around his waist, and nuzzles his neck.

 

“Hmm. Boyfriend I like the sound of that.” Harry nips at Louis’ neck, kisses the spot lightly, and moves his head so it’s hooked over Louis’ shoulder. “Tell me, boyfriend, why are we not at work.”

 

“Maybe because I woke up at normal time, like the responsible adult that I am, and promptly called myself into work and texted Liam that you were very sick with that 24 bug that’s going around and would not be making it into work and to please let the proper people know. It was a busy night. I figured we deserved to sleep.”

 

“If I get sick because you fake called me in sick, then you better be prepared to take care of me,” Harry warns.

 

“Noted. Now on to more important pieces of business. Why are you only in your underwear? And what can I do to get you into less than that?” Louis turns around to face Harry, his hands tracing the band on his boxer briefs. Harry smirks.

 

“I’ve always felt that nakedness is freeing. Follow me and I’ll show you how….” he pulls away and saunters to his bedroom. He doesn’t have to look behind him to know that Louis is following him.

 

They spend the rest of their day finding out what it means for them to be boyfriends. Turns out it’s pretty similar to what they did before, which was a lot of cuddling on the couch. Except with more touching in general, and more kissing, and more orgasms. They also took the time to talk about the Daddy thing, and do some kink negotiation. Harry was pretty embarrassed at first but he got more excited once he realized that Louis was into it to.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry can’t stop pacing. Louis left an hour ago to go to Niall’s because he insisted on picking Harry up properly for their date, but he said he’d pick him up by 2:00 and it’s… 1:53. So maybe he’s not late yet. He can practically feel Gemma roll her eyes from the couch.

 

“He’s not going to be late.”

 

“He’s always late,” He points out.

 

“He won’t be for you. I’m not sure it’s possible, but I think he’s more excited than you. And he doesn’t even know how gussied up you are.” she flings her hand in his general direction to indicate his body.

 

So maybe he decided to wear the black jeggings Louis gave him, and the flamingo shirt. At first he thought it looked really stupid, but Gemma unbuttoned four of the buttons and helped him control his curls so that they’re hanging loosely just below his shoulders. Although, he’s ran his hands through it so many times that the top has a semi-quiff going on. Gemma assures him that it still looks good. The whole thing is completed with his pea coat and boots. He’s surprised at how good he feels in it. He was prepared to change into his comfortable sweaters, but this feels right to him. Maybe he should get some more shirts like this.

 

The doorbell rings and Harry practically runs to the door. 1:58, he’s early! Harry flings the door open and pulls Louis in for a kiss.

 

“Is this how you greet all the people who come to your door Styles? If I had known you were that easy I would’ve arrived early before today.” Louis smirks up at him, but that smirk fades slightly as he looks Harry up and down.

 

“Not all the people. Just the cute ones,” Harry says with his own smirk.

 

“Speaking of cute ones, I’m not sure I can let you leave dressed like that. I love your hair like that by the way. It makes me want to just run hands through it. Are you sure you want to leave yet? We could have our own date here and-” Gemma interrupts them by pushing Harry out of the door.

 

“Go. Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Or do things I wouldn’t do. I don’t care as long as you remember that one of you is my brother and the other is my best friend, so I don’t want to hear intimate details from either one of you. And you,” she points at Louis. “You have him back promptly by 10pm or else there will be hell to pay young man! Now get out of here!” She slams the door in their faces.

 

“I wonder if she would actually do anything if I brought you home later than ten. I would try it out for purely scientific reasons but there’s something else I’d much rather be doing with you around ten and that requires us to be home. And she’s promised me that she’s not coming home tonight. So we better get going now.” Louis reaches down and laces their fingers together. Harry smiles stupidly at their hands.

  
“Where are we going?” he asks as they head down the hall.

 

Louis grins at him. “It’s a surprise.”

 

They start the date at the Seattle Aquarium. They decide three important things while they’re there: 1) if they were animals they would be sea otters. 2) in an alternate universe, Harry is a mermaid. There’s some debate as to what Louis would be. Harry insists that he would be a harpy, but Louis points out that there are no male harpies. And that it would be very difficult for them to get together if they were such completely different species. Harry insists that it would work. Louis shuts him up by saying “if you’re a merman, I’m a merman” and a kiss. 3) Sea anemones are weirdly addictive to touch. They finish their date at Ivar's on the waterfront. They have one or five too many cocktails with dinner and decide to take an Uber home, not trusting themselves with busses, but also because it’s faster.

 

“Dadddyyyy….” Harry whines trying to get to Louis’ pants as soon as they get inside the apartment. Louis grabs his hands and presses him to the door.

 

“Baby baby, calm down. Do you want Daddy’s cock?” Louis grinds against him as he says cock.

 

“Yes Daddy please. Want it in me,” Harry mewls. Louis takes one of his hands to pull Harry’s roughly to the side, exposing his neck.

 

“Well then baby, stop fucking whining. Good boys don’t whine.” He bites Harry’s neck hard, and Harry bites his lip to keep his whimpers in. “Good boy, now let your Daddy take care of you.” Louis locks his finger in Harry’s belt loop and pulls him into the closest bedroom.

 

* * *

 

About a month later Harry is brushing his teeth when he the overwhelming urge to throw up comes over him. So he does. Louis must’ve heard him because he’s there rubbing his back for him, running his fingers through his hair, murmuring soft words of comfort. He hands Harry a glass of water once it seems like he’s done.

 

“This is your fault. I always get sick after faking.” Harry accuses. Louis gives him a small smile but he still looks very concerned. “I’m kidding sweetheart. I know you had nothing to do with it.”

 

“Do you want me to stay and take care of you? The kids are performing their short scenes today, but I know they wouldn’t be upset to have another day to frantically memorize their lines.” Louis offers and he helps Harry off the floor. Harry kisses Louis’ forehead.

 

“Thanks for the offer Lou, but I’m actually feeling much better. I think it might’ve been food poisoning. I woke up in the middle of the night starving and I had some questionable leftovers. I can’t quite remember when we had Chinese food but that pineapple chicken looked amazing so I ate it.” Harry climbs back into bed. “Just text Liam for me please. I’m sure I’ll be almost better by the time you get home. Love you Louuuu.”

 

Just like that Harry was asleep before Louis could even fight him. He decides to go to work, trusting Harry to contact him if he needs to go home, but decides to cancel rehearsal. Seems like a fair compromise, and he wouldn’t be able to focus on blocking if his mind was on Harry, alone and sick at home.

* * *

 

 

The problem is. Harry isn’t better the next day. Or the day after. Or the day after that. So now they’re sitting a walk-in clinic, waiting for the doctor.

 

“Louis. Calm down. I’m sure it’s just the bad case of the flu,” Harry tries to reassure his fidgeting boyfriend.

 

“Harold, we’ve been over this. You have zero other flu symptoms. It has to be stomach cancer.” Harry rolls his eyes. That’s the problem with being with someone who’s a drama major, it’s always the most dramatic answer.

 

“Louis. Love. Come over here,” Louis walks over to the table thing Harry is sitting on. Harry grabs Louis’ hands and makes eye contact. “I also have the fatigue. It’s probably the flu, but even if it’s stomach cancer, we’re going to get through this, me and you. We’re in this together. I’m not leaving you just yet.” Harry gives him a soft kiss and Louis’ rests his forehead against.

 

“I love you baby,” he murmurs. And then because he’s can still be a little shit in serious situations, he starts humming “We’re All In This Together”. Harry laughs as the doctor walks in. Louis steps back.

 

“Hello, Mr. Styles? I’m Dr. Chen. I hear you you think you have the flu? You’re fatigued and throwing up at various times throughout the day?” She checks. Harry nodds. “When did this start?”

 

“About four days ago?”

 

“Have you had any Fever? Chills? Diarrhea? Loss of appetite?”

 

“No to all of those, and I actually think I’m hungrier? Between throwing up. Or maybe that’s a normal amount of hunger and I’m not used to having my stomach empty,” Harry offers, glancing at Louis, who looks like he’s gone back to being convinced that it’s stomach cancer.

 

Dr. Chen hesitates for a moment and glances at the chart again. “Any chance you could be pregnant?”

 

“No. Well, not no. We’re definitely sexually active. But we’re very careful and I’m on…. Actually. Oh fuck. Louis?” Harry quickly turns to his boyfriend. “Louis? Remember the aquarium date?” Louis nodds. “Remember the night after?”

 

Louis smirks. “Fuck yes I do, how could I forget when we… oh fuck. We thought it would be fine because we were both clean… but... You’re pregnant.” Louis’ hand slides over Harry’s still flat tummy. “But how? I mean I know how. I remember how. But I thought you were on the pill.”

 

“Yeah… my prescription ran out about a week before and I hadn’t bothered to transfer pharmacies yet? And I wasn’t seeing anyone so it didn’t seem important? I didn’t want anyone if I couldn’t have you….” Harry sounds so sad that Louis quickly gives him a kiss. Dr. Chen clears her throat to get their attention back on her.

 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but it sounds like you’re probably pregnant, but we’ll still take a test to be sure. About how long ago was the probable conception?”

 

“One month and four days.” Harry tells her, not even trying to pretend that he doesn’t know exactly how many days it’s been since they went on their first date. She nods, makes a note in her chart.

 

“We just do a urine test. If you come with me Mr. Styles, I’ll show you to the bathroom. There are empty sterile containers in basket and a pen. Write your name on both the lid and the container, pee in it, and put it in the window. After, just come back to this room and we’ll get back to you in a few minutes.”

 

Harry nods and follows her. He follows the instructions and waits anxiously with Louis in the room. This time their roles are reversed though.

 

“What if we were wrong and it’s stomach cancer?” Harry frets. Louis smiles at him.

 

“Nope. You’re definitely pregnant. I think you’re even glowing. I just thought you were sweating more from being sick but it’s definitely pregnancy glow.” Louis teases.

 

“Shut the fuck up, you’re a dumbass,” Harry grumbles.

 

“Careful, sweetheart. You don’t want the baby’s first word to be ‘fuck’ do you?” Louis’ previous nervous energy has turned into excited energy. It’s a subtle difference, especially in smaller spaces like this, but Harry likes this kind of energy so much more.

 

“That’s not how it works and you know it! It doesn’t even have ears yet!” Harry points out. Louis grins.

 

“Maybe, but you just admitted it exists,” Louis rubs Harry’s tummy gently again.

 

“I just didn’t want to get my hopes up,” He admits, staring at his belly, trying to imagine himself at nine months and ready to pop. It’s pretty hard to imagine at this point.

 

The door opens and immediately all of his attention is on Dr. Chen. She smiles at him, which is reassuring.

 

“Congratulations Mr. Styles, you’re pregnant!” She announces. Harry’s eyes immediately find Louis’. He’s suddenly gripped with panic. It’s definitely too soon in their relationship to have a baby. And, sure he just turned twenty-four, and they both have good jobs but he feels way too young for this.

 

“Louis. Lou. We’re going to be fucking parents. Lou.” Harry can’t keep the panic from crawling into his voice. Then Louis gives him the biggest, most crinkly eyed smile. It looks like sunshine in face form.

 

“You know what I think Mr. Styles, love of my life, and little baby, other love of my life?” Louis pauses to give a small kiss to where the fetus is growing. “I think _we’re all in this together_ ….” He sings softly.

  
Harry crackles. Yeah. They’re going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far and enjoyed it really appreciate that. If you want to tune in later for a possible chapter featuring the actual pregnancy and also a better edited original fic I would also appreciate that. But those things aren't guaranteed. Maybe by then I'll figure out when to use page breaks.
> 
> To Ballsdeepinjesus:  
> When I saw that the fic I was pinch hitting for was for you I was nervous because i think you are a fantastic writer. Three months later I still think you're a fantastic writer. You deserve better than this fic. I hope you didn't hate it. Sorry about the smut. I tried some but it was my first time. For everything else, I have my excuses but at the end of the day they're just excuses.


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